Mikan's Revenge Goes Awry!
by Brooke Chiang
Summary: Mikan sets up an elaborate torture trap for her bully... but catches a completely different target! ***WARNING: EXTREMELY DISTURBING and GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS of VIOLENCE and TORTURE!


Hiyoko's Room in Hope's Peak Academy Dormitory, Japan…

Mikan Tsumiki, the Ultimate Nurse, lurked inside the room of her bully, Hiyoko Saionji, the Ultimate Traditional Dancer. She had enough of Hiyoko's relentless, sadistic bullying, her caustic words, and even physical violence. Now she was going to finally get her revenge on that short, foulmouthed twerp. Mikan would make sure Hiyoko suffered and died in the most awful way the Nurse could conceive. She had even convinced Kazuichi Soda, the Ultimate Mechanic, to help build the murderous contraption (without telling him what it was for). Her revenge was so close, so close- !

Abruptly, the horizontal sliding door to the room swung open- but Mikan instantly knew the silhouette wasn't Hiyoko. For one, the figure was much too tall, and lacked the trademark kimono Hiyoko always wore in public.

"Crap!" Mikan muttered to herself panickedly.

"Hiyoko? Are you there?" Mahiru's voice called out, her voice tinged with a shade of anxiety. "Is everything alright? I heard some noise..."

Mahiru Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer stepped into the doorway, her bright red hair becoming illuminated by the dim lighting Mikan had set up.

At that moment, Mikan's insidious trap snapped into motion.

"I'm here!" A loud recording of Mahiru's own voice startled Mahiru and she turned instinctively to look to her left.

The door slid shut at high-speed, pinning Mahiru against the side of the door frame. A retractable blade hidden at the bottom of the door sprang out and screeched upward at incredible speed to cut straight into her crotch.

"AUHHHH! My clit! My clit!" Mahiru screamed in agony as the switchblade sliced her delicate nub, so sensitive to pain, right in half.

"I'm- I'm- s-so sorry…" Mikan muttered in horror from her hiding place behind Hiyoko's bed, watching Mahiru shriek and cry in pain, her whole body writing and spasming helplessly while pinned by the door.

After a few minutes of Mahiru's painful cries and moans filling the room, the trap's second phase began.

Two bear traps came out of the floor to snap shut on Mahiru's lithe ankles, their sharp teeth slicing into the photographer's pale flesh.

"ARGHH!" Mahiru cried out painfully, her head arching backward.

After several minutes to alternating screaming, shouting for help, cursing and thrashing to try and escape, Mahiru finally fell silent, exhausted by her efforts and her adrenaline expended. She leaned back, sobbing despairingly, gritting her teeth at the pain. "Why? Why? What did I ever do to deserve this? Why- why is this happening to me? I- I don't want to die yet!"

From her hiding place, a horrified and tearful Mikan had a different question. Covering her mouth with her hands, the nurse muttered, "Why- why did you have no friends with that shitface Hiyoko?!"

As the girl sobbed in agony and fear, she failed to hear a tube extending out of the door, near where the switchblade was still lodged painfully in her clit.

Whoosh! A oily liquid sprayed out of the tube, soaking the underside of Mahiru's panties.

"Wha- " The sudden oily feeling startling Mahiru out of her despair. "This smell- OW! Ah! Ow, oh god, stop!" Mahiru began struggling and gyrating on the spot as the liquid, which she'd recognized as gasoline, sprayed into her wounded clit, irritating her injury with sharp pain.

Tshk! A loud popping sound emerged as a blowtorch ignited.

Mahiru's eyes widened in abject horror.

"No- no, no, no!" She thrashed, ignoring the lacerations the movement inflicted on her ankles. "I beg of you, please, no! Stop! Stop! Sto- ARGHHHH!"

The blowtorch burned straight through her clit, then moved posteriorly to utterly scorch her labial lips and the rest of her vulva. A moment later, the gasoline-soaked underwear burst into flames, trapping Mahiru's womanhood in a sea of flames.

"ARGHHH! NO! AUGHHH!" Mahiru's loud and incoherent shrieks filled the room. Slowly, the fire followed the trickles of gasoline down her thighs, and ignited her skirt. Even as the torched skin of her groin began to slough off, the fire moved on, scorching her thighs, ass, lower abdomen, and lower back, and Mahiru's suffering and tortuous cries continued.

Mikan sobbed silently as she watched the poor photographer burning alive in excruciating torture.

At long last, Mahiru finally passed out due to her close proximity and inhalation to the smoke and the agony she was in.

"This- this is none of this is my fault!" Mikan exclaimed, as flames and smoke continued to billow from Mahiru's rapidly-blackening body. "It- it's not my fault!" She stumbled panickedly to the open window she'd prepared as an escape. She tied the a thick escape rope around her own waist and dropped outside where she'd put a trampoline below. "Forgive me!"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Eighteen years ago today, on October 5, 2000, after six days of the Bulldozer Revolution, the long-ruling communist dictator of Yugoslavia, Slobodan Milosevic, and his Socialist Party regime were finally overthrown, also putting an end to nearly sixty years of communist rule. Two people died and some 65 were injured over the course of those six days. The revolution also helped dissolve the decrepit Yugoslav state and allowed the oppressed minorities in the Balkans achieve independence after the bloody Yugoslav Wars (especially the most-recent Kosovo War).

Eighteen opposition parties who opposed Milosevic's authoritarian rule had previously banded together to form the Democratic Opposition of Serbia (DOS), in alliance with the youth movement Otpor, to oppose the Socialist Party during the September 24, 2000 election. Despite widespread support from the people, and the DOS having a clear majority, the Socialist-controlled Federal Electoral Committee falsified the results and claimed that neither the DOS or Milosevic's Socialist Party won a majority, requiring a second round. The public rose up against the lies, and most-symbolically, protestors rammed a wheel loader through the entrance of the state-owned RTS television station (hence the name Bulldozer Revolution). After Milosevic's deposition, it became clear the old regime had clearly falsified the election results.


End file.
